Introducing Theologies of Religions.

Introducing Theologies of Religions Paul Knitter Orbis, $25, 256 pp.

Paul Knitter has long been a prominent voice in the theological discussion about the relationship of Christianity to the other world religions. It is a delicate area of Catholic theology, as more adventuresome thinkers such as Jacques Dupuis, S.J., learned a few years back when he was hauled before the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF) to explain himself. (Knitter was also the object of the CDF's attention for a period.) This book, however, should not set off alarm bells among the theological bien pensants, since it is an extremely readable and evenhanded survey of recent discussions of the ecumenical question. To put it bluntly: Are Buddhists, Hindus, and others who are beyond the Christian pale "saved" outside of Christ, or must they somehow find their salvation "in Christ," and if so, how?

One conspicuous tradition within Christianity says boldly that people are saved only by and in faith in Jesus Christ. All religious paths are replaced by the saving work of Christ. Protestant Fundamentalists take this position in its starkest form and it lends considerable energy to their efforts to spread the good news everywhere in the world. More sophisticated versions of this position affirm the singularity of the Christian faith (note Karl Barth's famous rejection of all "religion" over against faith in Christ), while attempting to articulate ways (mysterious and hidden) by which grace acts as a seedbed for faith.

A second tendency would view the Christian faith in general, and the saving acts of Christ in particular, as the fulfillment of the religious aspirations of other religions. There is a hint of that approach either in or encouraged by Vatican II's Nostra aetate, but it is most explicitly identified with the thinking of Karl Rahner and his much-critiqued concept of the "anonymous Christian." In more recent times, the Rahnerian position has, with varying differences, been articulated by Jacques Dupuis and Gavin D'Costa.

Those inclined to seek out a kind of mutuality among religious traditions have, in a sense, bracketed any highly dogmatic understanding of Christ. Their hope is to find a way of expressing a certain spiritual unity behind the limitations of all religious systems. This view posits the possibility of one divine reality under and beyond all religions, and often emphasizes the mystical path or the mutual pursuit of good works. In various ways, scholars like John Hick and Raimon Pannikar have articulated strategies of this sort. Many Asian theologians (for example, Michael Amaladoss, S.J.) emphasize a practice-based dialogue, which leads almost inevitably to contact with various forms of liberation theology. The thought of Sri Lankan theologian Aloysius Pieris is a good example of this trajectory.

Another approach to these difficult questions is found in the influential work of George Lindbeck who argues that our religious identity derives from the language and culture within which we dwell as a "family." Our religious experiences create the language and culture of our beliefs. Consequently, we must be wary of seeking out commonalities among different religions. There is no generic religion. The specific character of a religious tradition helps us understand the incommensurateness of religious traditions. My own limited experience as a recent participant in a Christian-Buddhist dialogue makes me sympathetic to this postliberal approach. There are, in fact, profoundly different views of fundamental issues between, say Christians and Buddhists, and we need to acknowledge this honestly, lest we fall into vapid generalities and specious bonhomie.

In interreligious dialogue, then, the most honest procedure is to set out as faithfully as one can what one believes and why, and at the same time (borrowing Knitter's words) to be a good neighbor. Honest exchange may lead us to learn something we did not know about ourselves before, while at the same time learning a good deal about others. A more muscular version of this position (espoused by my one-time colleague Paul Griffiths) is to be a good neighbor but also be a vigorous apologist for Christianity. That still leaves the question: How, in this schema, are non-Christians saved? Both the Catholic Augustine DiNoia and the Lutheran George Lindbeck have a generally common answer: Leave it to the saving mystery of God's grace. What these theologians and those sympathetic to them end up saying becomes almost a paradox. We must affirm two seemingly contradictory positions: salvation comes through Christ and/but God wills the salvation of all.

Knitter provides a good survey of theologians who work in a comparative vein (James Fredericks and Francis Clooney, S.J., are his prime examples). They see their task as understanding other religious traditions as well as they can--a kind of scholarly enterprise that demands a high degree of linguistic and cultural sophistication--in order to reread the Christian theological enterprise through the lens of the other. This kind of theological work can be very fruitful but, obviously, it requires skills beyond the training of most.

At a time when tensions among religious traditions are everyday news, it is crucial that there be scholars who can pass over to other traditions in an honest and rigorous fashion. It is only to the good that knowledgeable people help us understand the deep beliefs of others, so that we are neither misled by hostile ideologues (note the remarks about Islam bandied about by some preachers), nor left in the hands of well-meaning popular amateurs (such as Karen Armstrong). Knitter's book is an excellent survey of the best scholarship dealing with the vexatious subject of interreligious dialogue and comparative theology. He is to be commended for the clarity and evenhandedness of his exposition.

Lawrence S. Cunningham is the John A. O'Brien Professor of Theology at the University of Notre Dame.